


Advanced Seminar In Postmodern Cultural Analysis, Lesson Five

by whatthefoucault



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Deadpool - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: American Sign Language, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Deaf Clint Barton, Hawkpool - Freeform, Illustrations, Quality Time, Slice of Life, Snacks & Snack Food, steve and wade are total bffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6198601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefoucault/pseuds/whatthefoucault
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve Rogers and his very good friend Wade Wilson hang out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advanced Seminar In Postmodern Cultural Analysis, Lesson Five

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this plays pretty fast and loose with the various canons, so bear with me. My Hawkeye is and always will be Hot Mess Hawkeye of recent comics, which is really the only important thing to be aware of. This is something I needed to get out of my head that started a few days before seeing the Deadpool film and is FINALLY DONE. Sadly, it may be spawning a few backstories to explain how the hell we got here. Apologies in advance for taking you down this winding, decidedly nonlinear path with me.

The record hurtled to a raucous close with a hiss and a click, and Wade eventually ceased his surprisingly coordinated flailing and flopped onto the couch beside Steve. Steve took a deep breath, and maneuvered as best as he could a few inches to the side, to account for Wade's willfully oblivious lack of any sense of personal space.

"...and that, my friend, is the best use of yodelling in the history of rock and roll," he said. "Moving onto lesson six: let's talk about songs using the sound of barking dogs. You may recall from last week that the most important - "

"Wade, please," sighed Steve, "there's only so much I can absorb in one sitting."

"Well?" asked Wade, turning his face to Steve's with such buzzing intensity that Steve could practically hear him beaming through his mask. "What did you think?"

"Yeah, pretty good," agreed Steve. "The music was catchy, you're preternaturally gifted at Tetris, and I do see the appeal of sriracha on scrambled eggs. What was the name of that tv show?"

" _Enterprise_ ," Wade replied.

"It was good," said Steve, in an unusually high register he hoped Wade would not notice.

"Steven Grant Rogers, did you just use the I'm-lying-to-be-nice-to-you voice on me?" admonished Wade. "You'd better not be trying to spare my feelings."

"All right, all right... listen. It's... I didn't like it very much," he shrugged.

Wade was visibly wounded. "But it's a _Star Trek_!" he protested. "It's got _Quantum Leap_ Guy, and a sexy Vulcan, a fucking power ballad opening, and a dog, and... ok, yeah, it's mostly shit. What's next on the to-do list?"

On days like this, Wade was unstoppable. Having some time ago taken on the mantle (absolutely one hundred percent Wade's idea, Steve would hasten to add, should anyone ask) of Steve Rogers' Personal Cultural Guru, Wade revelled in the opportunity to deliver a crash course in everything awesome from the last few decades that Steve had not yet found the time to investigate. Steve appreciated pockets of time talking about things in no way related to work, but with someone who understood: just a couple of former lab rats on a haphazard cultural odyssey together.

Steve liked Wade. Wade was his friend.

"Right," said Wade. "Is there a name for the meal between lunch and dinner? Because I was thinking - "

Wade's brainstorm was interrupted by Steve's phone, chirping back to life. Steve frowned at the text message. So much for a rest, he thought.

"Sorry," he said, rising from the couch. It was all Wade could do to keep from losing his balance, without Steve to lean into. "Emergency meeting. I gotta go."

"Aww, but I was going to make bacon pancakes," said Wade, shoulders slumped in near-pantomime dejection.

"We can make bacon pancakes another day," Steve smiled, clapping a comforting hand on Wade's shoulder. "Come on, I'll walk you down."

"I can see myself out."

"I'll walk you down."

"Suit yourself," said Wade, pulling on a comfortable blue hoodie.

"That's my sweater," observed Steve.

"So it is," replied Wade, continuing to zip up. "Thanks for letting me borrow it, Stevey!"

"Steve, not Stevey," corrected Steve.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Frequently," replied Steve, pulling on his worn leather jacket, and retrieving his keys and papers from the sideboard before Wade could peek at anything confidential. "I love you too, kind of. Blue's a good colour on you. Will I ever see my my sweater again?"

"As soon as it stops smelling like you and I need you to wear it for a few days again to top up," said Wade.

"Creepy. Hmm, sure," shrugged Steve, guiding them out the door.

\---

"So... saving the world-type business?" asked Wade, as the elevator doors swished shut.

"The message was pretty vague on details," said Steve, watching the numbers descend as they whooshed to the ground floor. "And if it wasn't, it's probably still on a need-to-know basis."

"Ding," said the elevator, making a pit stop a few floors before the ground. There was Clint Barton, coffee in hand, who shuffled into the elevator.

"Hey Cap, hey Deadpool," he said, and paused, and thought. "Deadpool?"

"Boy-Hawkeye!" enthused Wade, lifting his mask, Steve supposed, in case Clint needed to lip-read. "I haven't seen you since last week when - "

"Yeah, I remember," interrupted Clint. "Did... you get a text about a meeting?"

"I'm afraid that's one party I won't be crashing," replied Wade. "Besides, I've got much more interesting places to be. Ice cream social, book club, go back to my apartment, pour a glass of malbec and masturbate to fanfiction in the bath..."

Steve wondered if he looked as outwardly uncomfortable as he felt. "I'm just walking him out on the way," he said, glad to have diverted the conversation into friendly territory that left no one imagining anyone touching anything. "We were just watching a bad _Star Trek_ at my place."

"Ding," said the elevator, at long last opening its doors to the ground floor.

"Aww Cap, what did I tell you about _Star Trek_?" said Clint, then took a moment. "Wait. You guys... hang out?"

"Ever since Moose Jaw - uhh, long story. It's pretty casual, you know, me and the Cap'n," said Wade, "more of a friends with benefits thing, really."

"I assume the benefit you're talking about _is_ that we're friends," puzzled Steve.

He could only assume that Wade was wildly waggling his eyebrows under that mask. Wade's concept of boundaries was questionable at best, thought Steve, but he made good scrambled eggs.

"We're not sleeping together," Steve clarified. "Wade's my friend. My friend who I'm not sleeping with."

"I think what the Captain is trying to say is that you have no reason to be jealous of our friendship," said Wade, punctuating his assertion with a boop on the end of Clint's nose.

"Why would I be jealous?" asked Clint, searching longingly for any last traces of coffee in the bottom of his cup, and seeming to find nothing.

"Cliiiiiiiiiiiiiiint," said Wade, lowering his gaze, "this ain't anybody here's first three-gentleman rodeo. What you and I have is special. You know I think you're the bee's knees, especially since that time last week when we made out in Bed Bath and Beyond."

"We've never made out in Bed Bath and Beyond," said Clint, scrubbing uncomfortably at the bandage over his stubbled cheek.

"Nope, you're right, that definitely didn't happen," agreed Wade.

"You're an idiot," said Clint, signing along.  


"I know you are, but what am I?" said Wade, signing in return.  


Steve could not be sure, but he was fairly convinced that Clint blushed.

"Yep, definitely," he said, as he and Steve turned down the hall, leaving Wade at the door. "Uhh, duty calls?"

"Fuck yeah. Hey, we still on for Taco Tuesday, my Captain?" Wade shouted after them.

Steve smiled, in spite of himself. "The avocados are ripening in the bowl above my fridge, amigo," he called down the corridor.

It was a good fifteen minutes into the meeting when Steve's phone vibrated to life in his pocket, making him jump. Surreptitiously glancing at the illuminated screen beneath the meeting room table, he read:

_Clint was right - it wasn't Bed Bath and Beyond.  
But ask him about Papaya King and tell me if he blushes._

**Author's Note:**

> (Wade has absolutely made Steve an educational mix CD. I have absolutely burned a copy of said mix CD from him. I may be persuaded to make an 8tracks mix of it if anybody's curious...)


End file.
